Chapter 178. Provocation
The news that a second student had been Petrified spread through the entire school in no time.
If one attack on a student could still be called an accident, then this incident was undoubtedly telling the students a terrifying fact—the monster was still roaming the castle.
And this time, the Ravenclaw girl was a Muggle-born witch, just like Justin Finch-Fletchley last time.
This, without question, intensified the panic among students from Muggle families.
The fear that had somewhat eased among the students after Valentine's Day now worsened once again.
A week later, everyone—students and professors alike—was anxious.
Even Lockhart had stopped "performing" in front of people and had become unusually well-behaved—so well-behaved that it was almost as if Hogwarts no longer had him at all.
He scarcely moved about except to teach his classes.
Wesson thought he was afraid of the Basilisk.
He had, after all, been attacked by the Basilisk once before.
And some time ago, Professor McGonagall had warned him that if he met the Basilisk's eyes, not even Merlin could save him.
This coward…
Of course, it was a very sensible course of action.
No one fails to cherish their own life, and Lockhart was no different.
One evening, Wesson was chatting with Harry in his office.
Harry had come to ask about Gulu—lately, Gulu seemed to enjoy sleeping more and more.
Out of twenty-four hours in a day, it spent twenty-three in a deep, unbroken slumber.
"It may be about to enter a growth phase," Wesson said after examining it, handing Gulu back to Harry. "That's normal."
Harry let out a small breath and rolled Gulu a few times in his hands.
But Gulu still showed no reaction.
"By the way," Wesson suddenly remembered something and said to Harry, "have you heard that voice again lately?"
"Voice?" Harry thought for a moment. "I don't think so."
Wesson nodded. "All right, but if you do hear the voice, notify me at once. Remember, don't go anywhere alone!"
He was genuinely worried that when Harry heard the Basilisk's voice, he would go looking for it by himself.
No doubt about it—Harry was that sort of person.
"I will, sir," Harry said earnestly.
After that, Harry asked Wesson about third-year electives.
"I'm thinking of choosing only Care of Magical Creatures," he said. "I should be good at it."
Wesson glanced at him and, with a smile, said, "If you don't choose my class, I'll give you detention every day. Or I'll take you to Lockhart and have you help him write replies to his fan mail."
Harry couldn't help a shudder.
How could he possibly not choose Care of Magical Creatures?
"All right, no joking," Wesson said seriously. "If I were you, I would definitely add Ancient Runes. As for Divination, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies, they aren't necessary, but you can try them if you like."
From the sound of it, Harry felt he would have to choose every single class.
But plainly, he didn't have that much energy or time.
So Harry focused on the one Wesson had emphasised.
"Ancient Runes?" he asked. "What kind of class is that?"
"You'll learn words and texts in the runic script," Wesson explained. "It's mainly theoretical—studying magical writings in Ancient Runes, for example."
Harry frowned as he listened; for any class, he was not good at the theoretical parts.
"It sounds like the kind of course Hermione would like," he said.
"I imagine so," Wesson nodded.
In truth, Hermione liked every course—
Ah, perhaps Divination wasn't among them.
Wesson remembered that in the original storyline Hermione chose every class and even applied for a Time-Turner because of it.
That was quite a remarkable device—he wondered who had made it.
If he had the chance, he definitely wanted to study one.
This time around, Hermione would probably still choose all the courses.
"All right," Harry nodded. "I'll take Ancient Runes, and as for the others, maybe I should think about them a bit more."
"A wise choice," Wesson said with weight. "If you want to become a top-tier wizard, you can't get around Ancient Runes."
Many ancient and powerful magics were recorded using Ancient Runes.
"Oh, hold on a moment," Wesson said, going over to his bookshelf and starting to pick through it. "Speaking of Ancient Runes, I have a few beginner-friendly books here—you can start with those."
"Hiss—"
Just then, Harry clutched his scar.
Wesson turned and saw Harry's tightly furrowed brow; realising what it meant, he asked quickly, "What's happened?"
Kill… at once… kill…
At that moment, fragmented sounds were spinning round and round in Harry's mind.
"Professor!" His face went white. "That voice… the Basilisk… I heard it. It's back."
At that, Wesson immediately put down the book in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the wand on the desk leapt into his grasp.
"Stay calm, Harry. Can you pinpoint its location?" he said, his face grave.
If Harry had heard the Basilisk's voice, it meant the Basilisk was now prowling outside.
It was entirely possible someone had already been attacked.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching on their own as he tried to determine the direction of the voice.
But the Basilisk's voice was very fragmented, and for quite some time he could not fix its exact position.
At last, after nearly half a minute, Harry opened his eyes.
"Very close! Right nearby!" His voice trembled a little.
Before the words had fully left his mouth, Harry dashed for the door.
Wesson followed close behind.
Just as Harry had said, the site of the Basilisk's attack was very near Wesson's office.
After only two corners, they arrived at their destination.
A student of average height lay on the floor, his body already stiff. His eyes were wide with terror, and he still held a textbook in his hand.
Plainly, it was the Basilisk's doing again.
This time, the victim was a fourth-year Hufflepuff student. Wesson had some impression of him; he seemed to be quite close with Cedric of the same year.
And he was a Muggle-born student.
If it wasn't a coincidence, the Basilisk's target had already shifted to these students.
All of a sudden, Wesson realised something. He stepped forward slowly and picked up the textbook in the student's hand.
He opened to the first page. There, written in familiar blood-red paint, were the words: Try to come find me.
Wesson stared at the sentence for a while.
The handwriting wasn't pretty; it could not even be called fluid.
Clearly, the person who wrote it had intentionally concealed their script.
This was… a naked provocation.
"What should we do?" Harry asked anxiously at his side.
Wesson checked the victim's condition and found that he was still only Petrified.
"Inform Dumbledore first," he said with a sigh.
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